Black Tie'd
by Lady Talla-doe
Summary: The smutty post-fiction, Pre-Epilogue to Problematique's "Black Tie. " Written with permission. Spock finds his tie.


**Original by :Problematique**

**Smutt by : Lady Talla-Doe**

**--------------**

**Black Tie'd**

"_Was… that… enough?" He pants._

"_No__."_

_Spock is flushed, and his collar looks ruffled, oh, maybe Jim did that when he grabbed it, how __fascinating__, but the important part to focus on here is Spock's expression, which is intense, and the gleam in his eyes, which speaks of knowledge. He knows. He knows everything._

"_Do you mean you need more data, Spock?" Jim asks._

"_Yes. Please, __more__."_

_There's something incredibly sexy about driving Spock to the primal, half-pleading half-demanding tone he's using now. Jim can feel it building; a powerful, exhilarating rush that makes his own face light up, pouring joy out of his eyes like fireworks._

"_Have your way with me, Commander."_

_It's very dark where they stand, but Jim can make out Spock's devilish little smile with perfect clarity when the Vulcan says firmly:_

"_I am going to take my tie back, now."_

~*~

"Ah- _Nghh_!"

He didn't care if they were in a public place anymore, so long as Spock kept doing _that. _Jim could have sworn that for a moment, a small – oh so small- smirk tugged at the corners of Spock's lips, before his expression once more smoothed over, leaving only his eyes to smirk down at him. Hot fingers brushed against his groin once more, over the cloth. Inky eyes danced wickedly, before Jim found himself pressed gently against the wall, now completely hidden from view in the niche to the left of the large grand hall doors. He let himself be pressed back, still clutching Spock's tux- now more then slightly rumpled, thanks to his grabby hands- as the Vulcan slipped one hand teasingly along the waistband of his dress pants, toying lightly with the skin before creeping down further.

_He's taking his revenge for the tie..._ By all things holy, he couldn't bring himself to feel annoyed, not with those clever fingers so close-!

He hissed, clamping his teeth shut as he clutched at his shirt, his first Officer's hand wrapped lightly around his erection. God_damn_, that shouldn't be so _good!_

His knees are weak, more then ready to give out as Spock's fingers tighten just slightly and _ohgodohgodohgod!_

The Vulcan's smirking eyes danced with satisfaction as Jim was reduced to a panting, flushed, weak-kneed thing, clinging to his tuxedo jacket as he tightened his hand just a fraction, adding a slight twist with a deft flick of his wrist as he pumps far too slowly, enjoying the soft, muffled noises his captain made as he denied him the contact he wished. Jim's lips move, words lost in a low, wet moan. He reframes from smiling, but knows it shows in his eyes.

"What was that, Jim? I could not hear." A flash of something dark and feral in his eyes; oh, he heard all right. But the flare of desire the words brought on was... exhilarating.

Jim's blue eyes narrowed, harsh pants filling the few inches of hair between them. Standing there, with Spock's hand on his cock, he could understand the impulse. So he leaned forward, playing it up for all it was worth,

"S-Spock, that's- _ah, _that's not your tie_..." _his forehead touched the Vulcan's shoulder, eyes shut tight as his fingers moved –_oh, god yes!_- _just_ right, twisting with enough force to make him shudder. Most _definitely_ getting revenge for the party. And possibly everything else he'd done in the last year at the expense of his First Officer. As spots danced in his eyes, he felt hot Vulcan breath on his ear,

"I know."

God, did anyone have a right to be that hot? His body twitched and spasmed, responding to every single delicious, torturous touch from those deceptively strong fingers, immensely grateful for the wall at his back. Spock did everything to drive him to the brink, bringing him back cruelly, only to repeat the performance. When Jim hissed his accusations, the man had pulled the Vulcan equivalent of an 'innocent' face, stating he was simply looking for his tie. By now Jim knew exactly where the slip of silk was- working its way down his pant leg, driven further along its road by his sporadic movements.

If he could have convinced his hands to move from Spock's shirt, he would have knotted them in that _disgustingly_ perfect black hair. Really, how could anyone have such perfect hair? Even after all they'd done, it was still lying smooth and perfect, pristine and untouched. He wanted to fist his hands in it, drag Spock back up from inspecting Jim's collarbone with his tongue, and kiss him. _Hard._ No one had a right to be that sexy. As if he could read his thoughts, the Vulcan's free hand came to twine with his, pulling him up with the captured limb in order to crush his lips to the blonde's. _Daaamn! Where did he learn to kiss like that?_ A hot, alien tongue invaded his mouth, sweeping across his tongue and over his cheeks, tangling languidly with Jim's as he kissed back, fisting a hand in that gorgeous black hair. It ran through his fingers like smooth silk, soft and cool despite his partner's raised temperature.

Spock moved his thumb. Jim jerked, throwing his head back with a wheezy moan.

How ironic. He'd forgotten Spock had his hand down his pants.

That thumb, that beautiful, wonderful, _torturous_ thumb moved across again, sweep away pre-cum before those clever, clever _oh-god-please!- _finger's stroked up his hard length, teasing the pulsing vein underneath. He reeled in his arms, eyes momentarily spotty as his vision patched out from the sudden contact. He shivered, despite the warmth of the night, and the heat radiating off the Vulcan holding him so close. He could feel one burning arm, brushing past his hip as it steadied its owner. Spock's face hovered inches from his own, ink eyes burning with all the feeling his blank face refused to show. He could feel an answering hardness that mirrored his own, pressed up against his opposite hip, although the Vulcan paid it absolutely no attention. Slim fingers stroked harder, faster, adding a delicious twist to the end of every stroke that caught the bundle of nerves right under the head of his cock, making him shudder in pre-orgasm spasms. He could feel that coil, tightening in his abdomen, his breath coming short and harsh, muscles shivering all over. Spock said nothing, simply watched him, taking in his flushed face, the smell of sweat and lust that clouded the air around them. He could feel the sweat slicking his captain's skin, feel his temperature shoot up the closer he got to that brink. The entire time, those inky eyes never left Jim's face, burning with an intensity that pinned him to the spot. Jim shuddered faintly, swallowing a louder moan before it could leave his throat. _Still in public,_ he reminded his clouding brain. Thinking was near impossible with that hand on him. He tensed, eyes widening fractionally before his entire body tensed, vision washing white as the orgasm claimed him, ripping through his body like an unstoppable tide. Silent but for a breathy moan, knowing those eyes were on him the entire time, as that hand continued to stroke, torture once more, as it rung him dry.

After what felt like hours, his muscles went slack, dropping him a fraction of an inch before the Vulcan caught him, holding him carefully as Jim fought to regain his breath. The hand released him, snaking out of his underwear, before moving down his thigh- still inside his pants. He shivered at the sensation to over-sensitive skin, biting his lip to keep the sound in as a silky slip slid free from his pants. Spock held it up for inspection, not seeming to mind the smear of white on the back of his hand.

It was Spock's tie.

"Ah. Here it is."

Jim let his head drop back, a dry laugh working its way from his chest.

**A/N: Dedicated to the wonderful Problematique! Thank you dear, for letting me write the smutty not-conclusion to your wonderful fiction, " **_**Black Tie "**_

**For those of you who HAVEN"T read " Black Tie " by Problematique, I suggest you do so now! It's amazing, and I do her absolutely no justice. **

**The Italicised bit is the last couple of lines from her two part fiction. Used with her permission. **

**I don't own the boys, or the idea of slashing them together. All I get from writing them is satisfaction of a job well done. Please don't sue me. I'd have to sell my future children to pay for the court costs.**

**Reviews are loved, and encouraged!**

**EDIT: fixed a few things. Why is it "**spermatic" **always seems to make it's way into my fictions? [/rhetorical] **


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